


Blood Current

by yoshitsune



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blood Kink, Blood and Injury, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshitsune/pseuds/yoshitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood can give a little taste of that soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Current

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as a fill to the prompt: "After seeing how Claude reacted to getting a taste of Ciel's blood, I would love to Sebastian very calmly and professionally patching up Ciel after an injury, then just decadently licking the blood off his hands and arms the second he's alone. It could also be cool if Ciel sees him for some reason, but what I really want to see is Sebastian dropping the cool butler exterior for a second and just luxuriating in the taste of soul he gets through the blood."

 

 

 

 

From Ciel's bedside Sebastian carried the wide white-enamelled basin and it's rose-tinted water. After the minor surgery he had skilfully performed to close the gash on Ciel's abdomen he needed to wash up. But as he was looking down into that water, and his soiled hands gripping the rim, he had no desire yet to throw that water out or to wash away the blood.  
  
As usual he had left on his gloves, as he did in all aspects of seeing to his young master's needs; it suited his aesthetic idea of a manservant never directly letting his skin press against that of his master. He went through many a pair of soft white gloves, and these too would need to be discarded, stained as they were in dust, dirt, and blood. As he was regarding these stains by holding his hand in front of his face, Sebastian could not ignore the bittersweet scent of that blood.  
  
Just the tip of his tongue slipped over his lips, holding back, teasing himself with the sensation of aroused denial. Just a little closer and what would it matter? As it was for his pride as the Phantomhive butler, Sebastian rarely failed to protect his young master from shedding blood. And as Ciel did not bleed without injury, it was very rare indeed to have so much of it soaked into the fabric, sticking to his skin. When he parted his lips a centimetre from touching that delicious spot, his breath shook with a desperation that would have embarrassed him if he weren't so amused and aroused by the situation. Soon it would all dry and crust and grow empty of that maddening scent.  
  
In a moment his eyes closed, and so did his lips at that thickly soaked finger that had pushed on Ciel's wound to staunch the bleeding while carrying him back to the manor. Through the fabric the sharp press of his fangs almost startled him. He chuckled silently, as he did not want to draw attention at this moment. He had his back turned, standing at the wash-stand near the window, but his little master was always most perceptive when it could trouble Sebastian.  
  
He supposed it was high time he made to actually wash in the basin. His sleeves were already rolled up to elbows, and one juicy droplet had made a path down his wrist. He licked it away now without hesitation. With it having already dried somewhat, he had to squirm his tongue over the traces to leave nothing behind.  
  
The flavour that melted into his mouth was not at its best of course (decorum would never allow him to taste it fresh from the source until the end), but that little taste reminded him of why he tended that little soul and would cultivate it to perfection. More pure a taste of what resided inside Ciel than breathing in the scent of his skin and hair, where the external additions of sweat and oils, or dirt, or soap, adulterated the essence of fine elements within Ciel's soul.  
  
Though somewhat changed, this was still the troubled yet innocent soul that had called him forth. Fresh and uplifting with a gentle sweetness, but not too cloying; light, but not insubstantial; undertones that lay bitter and sharp at the back of his tongue and gave the whole more depth than expected--so right, though not yet perfection. After all, an unripe fruit does not give as much pleasure as it potentially could.  
  
Sebastian almost sighed as he made himself slide out of those gloves and stow them in his pockets for safe-keeping. With his tongue he teased away the coating on his fingertips, then he submerged his hands into the cooled water to begin scrubbing, though his moment of self-indulgence had left little to be washed away any more.  
  
Afterwards the spare clean pair of gloves he never failed to carry already gave the impression of all returning to normal. His teeth pressed together in a smooth line. The blood's metallic aftertaste left something to be desired, but it was still satisfying to carry that taste in his mouth and roll it between tongue and teeth while he went about the proper business of a butler.  
  
He did not like to be overly obvious, so the medical implements and soiled cloth he had used to tend to his master he handed over to Mey-Rin on the other side of the door. She was to bring them down to the kitchen to be boiled or burned. He was perfectly composed in facing her, but she stuttered and blushed before turning; and he realised that he had been smiling and that his lips still carried a hint of blood.  
  
More conscious of regaining a cool façade, Sebastian stepped back into the room and closed the door. The only light that remained in the bedroom of his young master came from the usual candelabrum set at the bedside. The brighter lights he had needed for suturing had already been extinguished for Ciel's comfort.  
  
Sebastian walked closer, and stood at his master's side. He was going to ask if Ciel required anything else for the night, but seeing as he was lying quietly under the covers in the same position Sebastian had left him after finishing the bandaging, he only observed him a moment to see whether he was fully asleep. Catching a strong drift of that scent from its source, as muddied as it was by sweat, Sebastian couldn't help licking his lips again, wishing for that day.  
  
Suddenly Ciel wrinkled his brow and opened his eyes. Though somewhat dazed from blood-loss and pain, he scowled fiercely. "Are you going to stand around licking your chops all night, or are you going to bring me my warm milk, Sebastian?"  
  
Sebastian turned his stooping into a bow. "My apologies, young master."  
  
"Don't tell me, it was so good you just couldn't help yourself. Like a beast." Ciel didn't hide the tone of distaste and accusation, especially in that last word.  
  
"How perceptive you always are, young master," Sebastian said, with an edge of heat and irritation that had crept through him unconsciously. "It gladdens my heart to know that my master is well enough to notice even such trifles. I shall bring the milk right away."  
  
"See that you do. I want to sleep, and being reminded of your unsavoury predilections is not conducive in the least. Anyway they have no place where I can see them."  
  
"Of course, my lord," Sebastian said calmly, while inside he was grinning at the flustered innocence his little master could still show without meaning to. That little bit of blush in Ciel's pale cheeks was almost palpable to his demonic senses. He would give an age to drawing out and savouring all aspects of that soul's flavour, every last pleasure, everything.  
  


 

 

 

 

 


End file.
